


A Pair of Ghosts

by lostgirl966



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Fluff, Multichapter, PTSD, Recovery, get ready for some tears, happy and sad tears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-11-15 22:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11240757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostgirl966/pseuds/lostgirl966
Summary: Fitzsimmons begin the process of recovering from the framework





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "My ghost, where'd you go? What happened to the souls you used to be? We're not who we used to be. We're just two ghost standing in the place of you and me." - Halsey

May had been kind enough to drop them off at the apartment. On the drive over, none of the three spoke except at the end. There were a few goodbyes and a see you soon.

When Jemma and Fitz entered their home, they moved slowly. They were unsure of each step they took. It was strange to see it again. Everything was just how they had left it. There was a mug on the coffee table, and invention Fitz had been creating on the table and a pair of Jemma’s red rain boots beside the bookcase. It was all so normal, but somehow it didn’t feel like home anymore.

“I’m gonna go for a walk,” Fitz mumbled.

Jemma heard the sound of Fitz’s duffle bag hitting the floor and the door closing softly behind him. Now Jemma found herself all alone. So she moved between the couch, bookcase and the table to the bedroom. Jemma then tossed her bad onto the bed and plopped down beside it. “What are we going to do?” She whispered to herself. But no answer seemed to come. There was only the deafening silence.

They had left the framework, but it seems they had not escaped the nightmare. Jemma’s dark brown eyes began to burn with salty tears. Her bottom lip began to tremble and she instantly chastised herself. This was no time to cry. They were home weren’t they? She should be happy. Yet everything felt terribly wrong no matter how hard Jemma tried to convince herself otherwise.

Jemma didn’t bother unpacking. She didn’t seem to have the energy for it. So instead she changed into a baggy t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants and moved into the kitchen to make herself some tea. As was the usual, Jemma grabbed a mug with grumpy cat on it and filled it with earl grey. Jemma breathed in the familiar smell. It reminded her of days in the lab with Fitz and being at her parent’s house. She had been so innocent then.

Once the last sip of the stout black tea and disappeared Jemma began to make her way to into the bedroom. But before entering she paused. There was a stack of paper on the table in the breakfast nook. Slowly, she turned and approached it feeling her eyes begin to fill once more with stinging tears.

Jemma picked up the papers and covered her mouth as to not let out a sob. On each page was a house that was for sale in Perthshire. Before Aida and the framework, Jemma had been research a place for her and Fitz to get away from all of this. But now there was a good chance that wouldn’t be possible.

As these thoughts tore her apart, the door opened once more and Fitz walked in. He stumbled ever so slightly. It was clear he had, had a few drinks, but he was by no means drunk.

“Good walk?” She asked him looking away as she folded up the papers as not to let Fitz see. She didn’t to add more to his already jumbled mind.

Fitz didn’t speak, just simply nodded. He took off his jacket and walked into the kitchen. “You made tea?” He asked not looking at her.

“Yeah, if you’d like I can fix you some.”

Fitz held up his hand to stop her. “No, I can manage.”

Jemma did her best not to stare as he moved sluggishly around the kitchen. She licked her lips slightly. Jemma knew what had to be said, but she wasn’t sure how Fitz would respond. “Uh Fitz?”

No response. He kept his back to her as he continued making his cup of tea. She moved and sat down in the breakfast nook, beginning to play absentmindedly with the real estate ads. “I was thinking that you and I should probably start talking to someone. I mean we’ve both been through a lot and it might do us some good to- to get outside help.”

“Okay,” Fitz said. His voice was void of emotion as he continued to keep his back to her.

“Maybe tomorrow we could ask May if she knows of anyone?”

“Okay,” Fitz said again with that same emotionless monotone voice.

“That is if you’re up for it,” said Jemma hastily. He didn’t want to make him do anything he wasn’t ready for. “If not we can have a relaxed day here and rest.”

“Okay.”

Jemma’s hand clenched into a fist and she let out a soft sigh. “Fitz I need for you to say more than okay.”

Fitz’s shoulder’s drooped and he turned to look at her. Those blue eyes were glimmering with sadness as they looked down at her. “What do you want me to say? I have no idea what we should do.”

“I just want to know what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling.”

Fitz looked as if he was about to cry now. He ran his hands through his short curls and bit his lower lip. “Honestly Jemma, I don’t know I’m thinking or feeling. I’m just… Tired.” He looked at her is desperation. Sadly, Jemma didn’t know what he was looking for. If she had she would have helped him, no matter what it was.

“I’m tired too Fitz,” Jemma said as she stood to her feet. She walked to stand across from Fitz leaning against the island counter. “I just want to help.”

“I know you do,” Fitz sighed. Then turned slightly he drew a small piece of paper from his pocket. “Jemma we’re going to have to take one day at a time. Let’s worry about tomorrow, tomorrow. Okay?”

“What’s that?” Jemma asked with a nod to the paper.

“I’m getting to that.” Jemma heard him swallow as he held tightly onto the small rectangular paper. “I- I hardly know what’s real anymore. Aida programed me away from you. But this,” he help up the paper. “This is going to help me know that I’m really here. This is what’s true.”

As he spoke, Jemma got a good look at what he held between his thumb and forefinger. _Prosciutto Mozzarella,_ _Be safe! Love, Jemma_. The memory came flooding back into Jemma’s mind. She had given that to Fitz when the there was that whole business of there being two S.H.I.E.LD.’s. Her heart leapt. Fitz had kept it all this time.

“I don’t know how we’re going to get through this Jemma. But I’m going to try my best.” His voice broke and thick, heavy tears poured down his pale cheeks.

Jemma nodded vigorously whipping away her own tears. “Me too Fitz.” She drew in a shuddering breath trying to compose herself. “Now how about we get some rest. Our bodies and minds defiantly need it.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

Sleeping beside each other was more awkward than Jemma had expected. Somehow there seemed to be an invisible barrier between them. Both she and Fitz lay on their backs staring at the ceiling in the darkness of the calm night. She wanted to reach out to him, but was unsure if this would be pushing him too far.

For now it seemed the two would just have to do their best to try and act as normal as possible. It wouldn’t be easy. But Jemma’s heart warmed when she remembered Fitz standing in the kitchen holding the brown paper. She saw it as more than just a note she had given him. It was a sign of hope for them It was a sign of hope for a happy future.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz and a therapist

“So how have you been…? Fitz, are you with me?”

He jumped slightly at the sounds of the woman’s voice. Fitz looked up from the old bookshelf he had been starring at and to his therapist. It still felt odd to call this woman his therapist, even though he had been seeing her for four months now. Fitz didn’t like the sound of it. Somehow it made him feel crazy. But then again maybe that was true. In a typical week there would be only two meetings, but he would come in three times if he having particularly bad day.

“Yes,” he sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“What were you thinking about?” Dr. Peterson asked giving him a kind smile. This young woman seemed almost too friendly sometimes. It didn’t feel real. He knew she worked for S.H.I.E.L.D but he still kept that piece of paper from Jemma in his pocket.

“I’m not sure,” Fitz lied. In truth he had been thinking about when he had held a gun to Jemma’s head and commanded that she say he meant nothing to her. It caused him to feel as if he was about to be sick all over the dull red carpet.

“Are you sure?” She asked raising her eyebrows high with a knowing smile. “Cause you look a bit green.”

Fitz rubbed his face with his hands and moaned. “You’re almost as bad as Jemma.”

“You mean I’m good at reading you?”

He nodded, not looking at her. Fitz hated these sessions. He knew he had to confide in this woman in order to get better, but he hated thinking about all the things he had done. He especially hated having to retell them to Dr. Peterson. She looked far too innocent too hear about these kinds of horrors. She didn’t look older than 20 years olds, but she had told Fitz she was 30. “I’m still having nightmares.” _There_ , he thought. _That was something._

“Are they still about shooting your team?”

Fitz’s jaw tightened and his body shook slightly. He could feel himself beginning to sweat. “Sometimes there’s a bit of variation, but usually they have the same themes.”

Dr. Peterson nodded clearly thinking deeply about what Fitz had said. “Do you ever talk to Jemma about these nightmares?”

“No, I don’t want her to know.” There was a long pause as Dr. Peterson wrote something down on her clipboard. Fitz felt his body tighten as he heard the scratching of the pencil against the paper. “What are you writing?” He tried his best not to sound as irritated as he felt.

“I’m writing that you’re still showing signs of PTSD,” she said frankly. “Does it bother you when I write?” When Fitz’s nod she instantly put down her things and clasped her hands in her lap. “Then I don’t have to.”

Fitz felt a bit of the tenseness disappear. However, it would take a lot more than that for him to trust her. “Thank you,” Fitz said quietly. “I’m sorry. I know I don’t say much in these sessions.”

Dr. Peterson shrugged. “It’s up to you how fast this process goes. You came to me for help and I want to help. But you’re the one who’s in control of the outcome.”

“Sure doesn’t feel that way,” groaned Fitz. In fact he felt utterly powerless over everything in his life.

“I know, but give it some time.” She gave him a reassuring smile before saying, “I’d like to propose and idea to you. And feel free to say no, because remember you’re in control.” Dr. Peterson paused to make sure that Fitz nodded, showing that he understood. “I’d like to have you start taking some mild medication for your symptoms. They’ll probably help you sleep better. But we’d start out slow and just see if they made any difference.”

Fitz sat there motionless for a moment. He starred down at the old carpet beneath his feet. Drugs… It was not like he hadn’t taken drugs for his health before. After his brain damage he had taken medicine. But did he want to start that again? Some drugs could make things worse. Some that he had taken before even made him feel emotionless, and he frankly didn’t want to feel more emotionless than he already did. “I’ll talk to Jemma and see what she thinks,” Fitz said finally.

“I think that sounds like a good idea.”

* * *

 

The moment Fitz walked into the apartment he was hit with the smell of brownies baking in the oven. Before the framework this would have brought a smile to his face. However, no smile came now. He was almost afraid to feel happy. Afraid that if he did it would be taken away. _God, I really am messed up,_ Fitz thought to himself.

“Hello,” Jemma called from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready if you’d like to come fix yourself some.”

“I thought we were just going to order some pizza,” Fitz said feeling slightly guilty. Jemma had made pasta with pesto sauce, caprese salad, and bruschetta. He looked at it all and wished desperately that she had waiting for him to get back and help. “Jem you didn’t have to make all this.”

She simply shrugged and pulled the brownies from the oven. “I was a bit bored and I figured this will last us a couple of meals over the next few days.” She handed him and plate and smiled. “Want to watch an episode of the Doctor?”

“Uh yeah,” he stuttered. “That sounds nice. But Jemma there’s something I need to talk with you about.”

“What’s on your mind?”

Fitz hated how chipper she sounded. She couldn’t honestly be that happy. This had to be an act for his benefit. “Well Dr. Peterson mentioned me starting some medication for my nightmares and other stuff.” Fitz watched her closely for a reaction.

Jemma kept doling food onto her plate and seemed mostly unfazed, but he did notice the slightest pause when he said the word medication. “I don’t think that’s a bad idea.” Her voice was a bit higher pitched than it had been a moment ago. “Might as well try it.”

“Are you sure you’d be okay with that?”

Jemma looked up and made eye contact. “Of course Fitz. Are you comfortable with taking that step?”

He shrugged and spooned some pasta onto his plate. “I mean… I guess so. I’m just tired of not having any sleep.”

“Then it’s settled,” Jemma said with a smile that looked rather faked.

Fitz then followed her into the living room, where they plopped down on opposite ends of the couch. They hadn’t been very psychically close since they had returned from the framework. That is except for that moment in the pod. It was not like it used to be. Fitz had to admit to himself that part of this was his fault. He had distanced himself from her. But he didn’t know how she could even bare to touch him. Fitz didn’t even know how he could bare to have her touch him. He was not worthy of that. But one day he would be. Or at least Fitz _hoped_ he would be.

“Jemma,” he said turning to face her. Something new had just occurred to him. Hiw had he not thought about it before? “Are you seeing anyone? A therapist I mean.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve got an appointment tomorrow. I’ve been going for about a month.”

“Has it been helpful?” He asked before taking a bite of pasta. He hoped it was. He wanted her to be talking to someone about her nightmares too. But he soon pulled his thoughts away from that subject. What if he was in some of those nightmares? If so, what role was he playing? Fitz shuddered at the thought.

“Absolutely,” Jemma replied in that annoyingly peppy voice.

So Fitz returned to his meal and to watching the TV. He made a mental note to ask Dr. Peterson how he could be helping Jemma with her mental health as well as his. He would rather be focusing on her than himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thunderstorm wakes Fitzsimmons up

_Boom!_

Jemma’s eyes flew open at the clap of thunder. For a moment she had thought it was a gunshot. Thankfully, it was something much less threatening. Rain pounded against the window and lighting flashed outside. The lightning was followed by more loud thunder. It was then that Jemma became aware that she was in bed alone. Jemma sat up quickly looking around for Fitz, but was nowhere to be seen.

She slipped her feet out from under the covers and onto the cold wooden floor. Quietly she began to creep into the sitting room.

There was Fitz was sitting on the couch curled up into a ball with his arms covering his head in a defensive position. He rocked backwards and forwards as the sounds of quiet sobs filled the room.

She moved towards him slowly not wanting to scare him. As she did, Jemma saw that there was something dark covering Fitz’s hands. She reached out and rested her fingers on his shoulder. The next events happened so fast Jemma would hardly remember them later.

Somehow Fitz had pushed her to the ground and pinned her hands above her head as his straddled her. He starred down at her with teeth bared and eyes filled with utter fear. It was almost animalistic how he was acting. Like a scared dog that had been hit and was now trying to defend himself. Seconds later Fitz’s face began to soften as he realized what he had done. “Jemma,” he breathed. “Oh god.” Fitz then fell backwards onto the round carpet that sat underneath the coffee table.

“Fitz are you alright?” Jemma asked sitting up and immediately beginning to inspect his hands. They were covered in blood from little cuts that covered the fingers on his right hand.

“You’re asking me if _I’m_ alright?” He asked her incredulously. “Jemma I just attacked you.”

“Fitz you’re bleeding! What happened? Why were you in here?”

Fitz didn’t speak but simply starred at her. His mouth moved slightly as if he was struggling to form words, but none came.

Jemma sighed looking over his petrified face. “I’ll get some bandages. Just stay here and don’t move.” She then stood and scurried into the bathroom.

Jemma’s mission was cut short when she flipped the light switch in the bathroom. The tile floor was covered with glass from the small mirror that hung on the wall. “Oh Fitz,” she breathed looking at the mess. He must have broken it for some reason before going into the living room.

Cautiously, she crept around the broken shards of glass and opened the cabinet to retrieve what she needed. When she returned Jemma found Fitz where she had left him. He jumped as thunder rumbled through the night sky.

Fitz didn’t look up as she joined him back on the floor. His mouth began to move again and a weak, “I’m sorry,” escaped his lips.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Jemma insisted as she tenderly picked up Fitz’s bloody hand. As she did so there was a thumping noise that she knew to be the sound of the lights going out. Fitz jumped at the sound so she had to hold his hand steady as she wrapped the white gauze around his fingers.

Jemma then noticed Fitz’s eyes were scanning the area around them as if he expected something to emerge from the dark corners of the living room. _PTSD,_ she though watching his frightened eyes. “Would it help if we lit some candle once I’m done? I could make us some tea.”

Fitz gave her a slow nod still not looking at her. “That would be nice.”

After tapping down the end of the strip of the bandage she and Fitz moved into the kitchen. Jemma then began pulling several scented candles that Daisy had given her for Christmas from the drawer by the stove. Once lit she spread them out across the counters in order to create the most light.

It was because of this that Jemma didn’t notice that Fitz had begun getting out mugs for them. When she turned and saw him, she rushed to his side. “Oh I can get them.”

Fitz however used his body to move her block her reach of the cabinet. “I can pick up cups Jemma. I’m alright. I promise.”

“I know you can,” she said quietly taking them from him. “Thank you.”  
“Night terror,” Fitz said softly.

“That explains the mirror… I’m just glad you’re mostly alright. I’m sorry about your hand. I’m sure it’ll be okay in a few days though.”

There a long pause as they both sipped their drinks. The flames flickered over the room creating dancing shadows. They moved across the walls and over the two of them. Jemma grew distracted by Fitz in the quiet moment. There was just something about seeing the bright flames reflected in his bright blue eyes. In this light, she was reminded of how beautiful Fitz was. Why had it take so many years to see it? But she was jarred from her thoughts when he spoke.

“Jemma… Can I- can I tell you-tell you something?”

She was so stunned that she froze with the hot tea sitting against her lips. Finally, setting down her drink she said, “of course Fitz. I’ll always be willing to listen.”

Fitz’s jaw clenched for a moment and then he swallowed. “Actually, never mind.” He said taking another long sip.

“Are you sure? I’m here for whatever you need.”

“I know you are. Thank you, but really it’s nothing.”

Jemma felt a slight twinge of guilt. She wanted to help him so badly but didn’t know how. She could say hundreds of things but he wouldn’t believe her. It would all be for nothing. If Fitz would just tell her what he needed. She would do anything to help him recover from that hell. Oh how desperately she wanted to reach out to him and hold him in her arms. Yet something stopped her from doing that. Maybe it was all the things that had happened in the framework. It had put a wedge between them, and somehow they would have to over come that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz and Jemma go for a walk

Fitz walked casually along the path in the large forest like park as he did every afternoon. However, this time Jemma moved along beside him. Dr. Peterson had encouraged Fitz to invite her to come. Today Fitz had finally mustered up enough courage to ask.

The walk had been a tad awkward so far. Neither Fitz nor Jemma had spoken since they had begun their walk nearly twenty minutes ago. But Fitz was trying to enjoy the sound of the wind through the autumn leaves and the occasional animal. He hoped Jemma was alright with the lack of conversation too, because he had no idea what to say.

Finally Jemma broke the harsh silence. “Mack called. He wanted to know if you wanted to get a drink sometime or anything. He said he’s called you a few times but you haven’t answered.”

Fitz’s pulse quickened and he felt that familiar twinge of guilt that he felt so often these days. “I know I should respond. It’s just…”

“Strange?”

He nodded in reply. Of course she would know exactly what he was thinking. “Everything feels strange. Nothing is normal anymore.”

“I feel the same way… Maybe we could start something we do routinely. That way at least on certain days we would know what to expect.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Jemma shrugged and frowned for a moment. “We could get dinner, have a movie night or something. I’m up for whatever you like.”

“That sounds nice…”

“That sounds convincing,” Jemma said with a strong dose of sarcasm and a smile.

“I’m just not good with decisions right now. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. We don’t have to decide now.”

Fitz couldn’t stand the guilt he felt for pulling Jemma down with him. “Why don’t we walk by the pond,” he said pointing to towards water that was filled with ducks.

Jemma nodded and then followed as Fitz took the lead. He had often seen the ducks and their little ones.

“They’re so cute,” Jemma, giggled watching the ducklings scuttling after their mother.

The cool autumn breeze blew across Fitz’s face and he couldn’t help but notice Jemma’s hair. It was caught up in the wind and swirled about her shoulders. The sun glistened in her brown hair causing it to look as if it was glimmering. Fitz had forgotten how beautiful her hair was, how beautiful she was. How could he have possibly forgotten?

Jemma turned to him and smiled as the wind continued to play with her long hair. He felt as if his breath was caught somewhere in his chest. This had to be a dream. Surely, someone so beautiful could never love him.

Fitz looked away from her. He couldn’t look at her radiance any longer without doing something about it. Fitz then saw at the edge of the pond several small groupings of white flowers. Immediately, he made his way to them ignoring Jemma’s inquiry of where he was off to.

Fitz stooped down to the very edge of the murky pond. He heard Jemma call to him again, but he didn’t hear. Instead, Fitz was very focused on leaning out as far as he could to grab a handful of the small white flowers. They were so close now. His fingers brushed the stems.

But just as he was about to grab them Fitz’s foot slipped in some mud and he was sent crashing into the chilling water. His body seized when it hit the cold surface of the water and he gasped as it consumed him. Thankfully, the water wasn’t deep so Fitz only found himself waste high in water. He was just composing himself when he heard extremely loud fits of laughter.

There was Jemma sitting in the dying grass holding her sides and giggling hysterically. “I told you- told you to be careful.”

A soaking wet Fitz slopped his way up and out of the pond taking some of the flower he had been trying to get as he went. He crawled to her, his prize in his hand. Fitz then did something he hadn’t done in a long time. Laughter fell from his lips as he looked up at Jemma who could hardly breath now. How strange it felt. His body almost felt sore as he joined Jemma. He had not used those muscles in quite some time.

“Shut up,” Fitz said trying to scowl at her but not succeeding. He shook his head and then held up the cluster of snowy flowers to her. “For you. That’s what I was trying to do when I fell in.”

“Oh Fitz,” she said taking them from him. She held them to her nose and smiled finally able to stifle her laughter somewhat. “You’re so sweet.”

Fitz grinned back at her, but soon felt the strain of it. He then allowed it to fade from his face. _Sweet,_ she had called him. He hadn’t been sweet in the framework that’s for sure. He had been a demon there and that evil was still inside him. Fitz once again began to feel the weight of all that had happened.

“Fitz are you alright?”

He knew Jemma had seen his face fall. “Yes I’m fine. Just a bit chilly now.”

“Well come along and we’ll go back home. You can change and then we can watch a movie.”

Fitz nodded and stood as she did. _Oh come on Fitz, don’t let that demon inside you take away your joy._ Fitz shook his head slightly as if to jar the sadness away. Then he did something that took both him and Jemma by surprise. Fitz moved closer to the woman he loved and took her hand.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma's struggles

Jemma sat across from Daisy at the local coffee shop sipping on some hot chocolate. It had been so long since she’d seen her friend. So Jemma had been ecstatic when she had received the text about meeting up.

“How are you and Fitz adjusting?” Daisy asked nestling down into her comfy armchair.

Daisy’s grin made her feel so at ease. It had been too long since Jemma had made time for herself. She had been too worried about leaving Fitz at home alone. “We’re making it I think. Fitz doesn’t talk very much. I think he talks to his therapist at least.”

“What about you? Are you talking with anyone?”  
Jemma paused for a moment. Should she tell Daisy the truth? Eventually she decided upon the truth. “No, I’m not. But it’s no big deal.”

“It kinda is Jemma,” said Daisy. Her face was filled with concern as she put her coffee down on the table and sat up. “I really think you should.”

“Really I’m fine,” she insisted. Jemma felt like her friend was x-raying her now. Daisy’s eyes looked her up and down as she tried to sink into her chair so there wouldn’t be able any sign of foul play.

Next thing Jemma knew Daisy had stood to her feet and grabbed her hand. “Come with me.”

Jemma pulled back in protest. “No! What are you doing?”

“Please,” Daisy pleaded. “Just come with me to the bathroom.”

“Why? It’s a one person bathroom!”

“I don’t care, now come on.”

Jemma had a bad feeling Daisy could see through her rouse. But there was no use continuing to put her off. “Okay, okay fine.” Jemma then allowed herself to be led to the bathroom. “People are gonna think we’re going in here to make out,” she said trying to lighten the mood.

But Daisy didn’t find it as funny. She just looked back at Jemma with a sad expression. Once inside the small one-person bathroom Daisy turned and locked the door behind them. She then turned to stare at Jemma across the white tile floor with eye filled with pain. “Lift up your shirt.”

Jemma’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me Simmons.”

She sighed and felt tears beginning to fill her eyes. There was no hiding anymore. She couldn’t lie to herself anymore and certainly couldn’t lie to Daisy now. Jemma’s fingers slowly gripped the ends of her loose fitting wool sweater and began to lift it. She cringed when she saw a tear rolling down Daisy’s cheek and onto her trembling lip.

“Oh Jemma,” she whispered.

“Please don’t,” said Jemma as she pulled her sweater back down.

“What do you want me to do?” Daisy asked her incredulously. “Jemma,” her voice cracked. “I can see your ribs. You’re not caring for yourself at all. You look more like a ghost than you do yourself.”

Jemma was beginning to panic. What if Daisy told Fitz? “I’m fine!”

“You are most certainly not fine. Does Fitz know?”

“No,” Jemma screamed in desperation. “No he doesn’t and he’s not going to.”

“But why? Jemma you’re going through stuff and you don’t need to be doing it alone.”

“He needs my help Daisy!”

“And you need his,” she replied sternly.

Jemma bit her lower lip for a moment. “I’m managing,” she lied.

“If everything is fine, then why are you hiding it?”

The silence in the small white bathroom was so loud. Jemma starred at her friend trying her best to come up with an answer to the question. Yet no matter how hard she tried, there were none to be found.

That’s when she lost it. All the feelings and emotions that had been pushed down were now all coming to the surface. Jemma sank to her knees as if the tears pouring from her eyes were weights pulling her to the floor.

Daisy’s arms soon encircled her. “I’m here,” she whispered. “God I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I had you do that. Please forgive me. I just didn’t know how to handle it.”

Jemma shook her head against Daisy’s shoulder. “Of course I do. I don’t know how to handle it either.”

“Promise me you’ll at least think about telling Fitz.”

“I promise,” Jemma nodded.

* * *

 

When Jemma arrived back at the apartment she found Fitz exactly where she had expect to. He was sitting on the couch starring at the TV in a blank manner. His body was lip and unmoving.

“Hey,” he said weakly. “How’s Daisy.”

“She’s good,” Jemma, replied before placing her purse and keys down on the small table by the door. She then stood there looking at Fitz. On the walk back Jemma had been thinking about her promise, and now she had come to a decision. “Fitz,” she said after clearing her throat. “I would like to talk to you about something.”

He looked up from the screen raising his eyebrows. “What is it?”

Jemma opened her mouth but nothing came out. How could she possible explain everything? “Actually, can I show you?”

Fitz looked taken aback, but Jemma wasn’t surprised by that. “Sure,” he said slowly standing to his feet.

Jemma then lead him to the bathroom. She wasn’t sure why it made a difference where she did it. Yet, somehow it did. It would be more comfortable in the bathroom with no windows that in the living room which had windows.

“What’s going on?”

Jemma sighed arriving in front of the sink. She turned to face him. “Just don’t be upset with me okay? And…”

“Will you please just tell me what’s going on? You’re scaring me. Are you hurt?” Fitz’s voice was filled with fear as he stood in the doorway of the bathroom.

There was no need to waste anymore time. Jemma pulled her loose red sweater over her head. She watched then as Fitz’s blue eyes, which were filling with tears, roamed over her thin pale body. She waited with baited breath for him to say something.

But no words came. Instead, he rushed forward to her wrapped his arms around her. “Oh Jemma. My Jemma.”

And for the second time that day she began to weep. “I’m alright Fitz. Just having some hard times is all.”

“Have you told your therapist?”

Jemma cringed and cried harder. “I-I’m not…” She trailed off, but Fitz understood.

“Oh god,” he breathed against her ear.

“I’ll get one Fitz. Just please don’t be mad.”

“Of course I’m not mad,” he said through his own tears. “Why didn’t you tell me Jemma?”

She nestled her head into his neck and tried her best to calm her crying. “I don’t know. Several reasons I guess… I didn’t want to distract you from getting better, and didn’t want you to worry. I though I could handle it…”

“Well,” Fitz said leaning back so he could make eye contact with her. “You’re not going to be doing this alone anymore.” He used a finger to wipe away a tear from her cheek and then his hand to swipe her loose hair behind her ear. “You’re going to find a professional to talk to and you’re going to tell me when things are wrong.”

“I will agree to that as long as you do the same Fitz.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said with a nod.

Jemma smiled. “Then I’ll do mine.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz is put to the test

For the next couple of weeks Fitz and Jemma talked more than they had in the five months they had been back. Jemma often joined Fitz on his afternoon walks. Then it became their ritual on Wednesday nights after these walks to go out to dinner.

It was on one of these nights that Fitz and Jemma sat across from each other at an Italian restaurant. They both had blood shot eyes from having bad nightmares the night before. They were tired and a bit nervous being out in the world. However, both of their therapists told them they needed to go out into the world more.

“I got a call from Coulson,” Jemma said taking a sip from her wine glass. “He said that there’s a new tracker that Mack’s been working on. They’d like us to take a look. Would you be up for it? He said we could come by after dinner tonight.”

Fitz sat there for a moment in silence. It had been three months since he’d been back at the base. Occasionally, he would take calls to give his advice, but going back was an entirely different thing. However, his therapist had encouraged him to push him self a little and not be afraid. “I think that sounds alright.”

“Good,” Jemma smiled. “I’ll text him and let him know.”

Fitz prayed silently that he wouldn’t have some sort of break down at the base. It would be different to have one in front of his friends, than it would be in front of Jemma.

“Fitz you’ve gone pale. What’s wrong?”

Fitz drew in a deep breath as he scratched his stubble, which has grown out more than he liked it. He had meant to trim it, but he just didn’t have the will. “I’m just nervous about going back. I don’t want anything to go wrong.”

“You’ll be alright Fitz. You’ve made good progress this month. There was a thunder storm and you did just fine.”

He grinned at her across the table. “I still have no idea what I did to deserve you.”

Fitz saw her cheeks growing red as she looked down into her lap. He had missed seeing her blush. He missed a lot of things actually.

“You just got lucky I guess,” Jemma said giggling slightly.

Fitz’s jaw dropped and his eyebrows rose faking offense. He chuckled for a moment shaking his head. “I guess I did.”

 

Fitz and Jemma after dinner began to walk to the base. It would take some time, but they had both agreed that it would be more relaxing to walk than to take a cab.

As they walked Fitz slipped his hands into his pockets where his fingers would play with some string he had found in there earlier.

The night was quiet and Fitz enjoyed the feel of the cool breeze across his exposed cheeks. He glanced over at Jemma who looked deep in though as her eyes watched her feet. “What are you thinking about?” Fitz asked her somehow feeling fearful of the answer.

“You,” she replied simply. “I hope I haven’t pushed you into doing this.”

Fitz heard the fear in her voice. He gave her a soft reassuring smile. “You haven’t forced me to do anything Jemma. I promise.”

But it was at that moment a dark figure stepped out from an alleyway to stand in front of them. It was a man whose face was hidden by a hood. “Give me your wallet,” he demanded. He lifted a gun from his side and pointed it directly at Jemma.

Fitz’s heart was thundering against his chest. His eyes couldn’t look away from the gun. He licked his lips as he began to feel extremely light headed. “Listen I’ll give you some money. You don’t have to do this.”

“I want all of it,” the hooded man growled. ”Give it to me or I shoot her.”

Slowly, Fitz began reaching back for the leather wallet in his back pocket. As he did so he moved close to Jemma and her purse. He knew for a fact that she always carried a weapon with her.

“Hurry up. I don’t have all night.”

Fitz could hear Jemma’s short breaths as his fingers grasped the gun in her purse. _Come on Fitz. You’ve got to protect her. You can’t let her get hurt again._ Fitz pulled the gun out as fast as he could and pointed it at the man. He didn’t think. Fitz just aimed and fired.

The man went crashing to the ground as the bullet pierced his shoulder. He cried out when he hit the concrete.

Fitz took the gun on both hands and stood over the man assure that he wouldn’t rise. But Fitz began to feel his body sway, because as he looked down it was not the man he lying below him. Instead, it was Jemma on the ground with blood pouring from her shoulder _._ Oh god what had he done?

Far away someone called his name, but he couldn’t look turn his gaze to them. He had done it again. He had hurt the woman he loved. “No,” he cried. “No!” Fitz dropped the gun and crumpled to his knees.

The sound of many voices filled the air, but he couldn’t tell whom they belong to. His head cracked against the concrete and his vision went black.

 

“He was calling out my name.”

“Sometimes people with PTSD can see things. He’ll be alright.”

Fitz’s eyes fluttered open and found himself lying in a dimly lit room. It was the recovery room at the base. He turned his head to see Jemma and May sitting beside his bed.

Jemma’s face lit up when she found his eyes on her. “Fitz! You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Like hell,” he mumbled using a hand to massage his aching head.

“I’ll go get Daisy,” May said standing to her feet. “She told me to let her know when you woke up.”

Once May left the room Jemma stood up and sat on the end of his bed. “You really scared me. What happened? What did you see?”

Sweat immediately began dripping down his temple. “I s-saw you,” he stuttered out. “I saw y-you at the e-end of the barrel of the gun.”

Jemma froze starring down at him. She clearly had no idea what to say. Fitz decided it would be best so save her from the awkwardness of the moment.

“So what happened?”

“Well you started shouting a bit. Then Daisy and Mack showed up. Mack took the man to the police station and Daisy helped me get you here.”

Fitz drew in a shuttering breath and starred up at her. “I’m sorry Jemma. I wanted to protect you… But I couldn’t.”

Jemma rolled her eyes dramatically. “Fitz don’t be so dramatic,” smiled Jemma. “You know I can take care of myself. After all I did use a machine gun on Aida.” She gave a soft chuckle.” My god I loved doing that.”

A grin spread across his lips. “Jemma, you are amazing.”

She could ‘t hide her surprise at these words. “Oh… Well thank you. But you are the one who was smart enough to grab my gun instead of your wallet. Fitz you’re amazing too. Give yourself some credit.”

“Well I made it in the base,” Fitz laughed.

“I’m proud of you.”

Fitz beamed up at her. Maybe everything would be okay. Sure, things would be hard. Episodes like this were sure to happen again, but one day maybe they would end. Maybe, just maybe there was a chance for him and Jemma.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma helps Fitz shave off his beard

Jemma stood next to Fitz, as they got ready for bed, washing her face as he attempted to shave off the thick beard that had grown on his face. Jemma could tell he was struggling, but she also knew Fitz would want to do this on his own.

“Ouch!” Fitz yelped as his razor clattered to the floor as small drop of blood traveled down his cheek. “Damn thing,” he growled scooping it up from the floor. Fitz’s hands continued to shake as he began the task again.

Jemma swallowed harm. She was nervous, but somehow she was desperate to ask him. “Fitz?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind if I helped?” She wanted to help him so badly.

For a moment he starred into the mirror at himself and then looked over at her with blank eyes. “Uh, yeah if you want to I guess.”

Jemma licked her lips nervously. “I- I’m going to get a chair. That way it’ll be easier. I don’t want to cut you.”

Once the chair from the kitchen had been acquired Fitz sat down in front of the sink and mirror. Jemma grabbed the shaving cream and began applying it. Fitz’s bright blue eyes watched her fingers as they moved across his jaw and cheeks.

Jemma felt her heart skip a beat in her chest. She wished Fitz would look at her more. She wanted him to look at her the way he used to.

Then she caught his eye. He was not looking at her hands anymore. Instead those crystal like eyes were locked on her face as she began slowly and carefully dragging the razor across his skin. Her body began to shake. My god. That was the look. It was the look that he used to give her that would typically lead to them making love. Air seemed to get caught in her throat.

Fitz looked down to the floor, which left Jemma feeling empty. It had been so long since they’d be intimate. She missed having that connection with him. Not that they weren’t always connected, but having his lips on her was something entirely different. If he could just kiss her, that would be enough. It could be on the cheek, the forehead, or the lips. Jemma didn’t really care.

Fitz’s breathing was beginning to quicken now. Could he possibly be thinking the same thing she was?

Jemma continued her work without looking into his eyes again. She didn’t want to get distracted. The last thing Fitz needed was a bloody knick on his jaw.

Finally all the hair and cream was gone. As Jemma wiped away the excess she caught Fitz’s eye and they began to stare at each other.

However, the gaze didn’t last. Jemma broke away clearing her throat and putting away the razor. “All done,” she said beginning to walk back into the bedroom. But before she could make it to her side of the bed, Fitz’s hand grabbed hold of hers. Jemma turned to look at him, raising her eyebrows in question.

His face was full of question and longing. Slowly, Fitz drew closer and closer to her. He seemed unsure of each step he took; yet he kept walking.

Jemma could feel his soft breathing on her cheeks now. She starred at his lips unable help herself. They were so inviting.

One of Fitz’s hands came to rest on her back and the other on her hip. He then began to guide her backwards towards the mattress.

Lowering herself to the mattress Jemma kept her eyes on him. He was memorizing. He didn’t look like the man who had come from the framework. Instead Fitz looked like he had at the bottom of the ocean trapped in that pod, wearing a tired and worn face with ocean like eyes filled with love. But this was different. Jemma knew she loved Fitz now. She would accept the plea to love him back.

They lay next to each other on the bed not moving. It seemed that they were in awe of each other. As Jemma looked back at him she was reminded of how hopelessly and desperately in love with him she was. “Fitz,” she whispered. Oh how good the name tasted as it spilled from her lips. It was said like a prayer.

Then he said her name. “Jemma.” Fitz sounded so breathless when he said it.

There was something magical about hearing him say her name. It caused Jemma to lose what composure she had left. She leaned over and pressed the gentlest of kisses to Fitz’s soft lips.

She drew back to see what his reaction was. Was that okay? Did she go too far? But as soon as Jemma pulled away a hand slipped behind her head.

Fitz’s hand slowly drew her back towards him bringing their lips together once more. His strong fingers moved their way up her hip and side onto her shoulder and then finally into her hair. Fitz rolled himself on top of her breaking the kiss to nuzzle her neck with his nose.

A sigh escaped from Jemma’s lips. “Oh Fitz,” she breathed. This was like a dream. It felt too good to be true. Sure enough it was. When Jemma felt Fitz’s hand slide under her shirt she was filled with a sense of panic. “Wait,” she cried out.

Fitz sat up in order to look down at her. His eyes were wide and his face pale. “What? What did I do?”

“Nothing,” Jemma shook her head vigorously. “It’s me… My- Fitz my body doesn’t look like it used to. Purging and not caring for myself has given me… Well I have some stretch marks and-.”

However, before she could finish, Fitz cut her off. “Jemma that doesn’t matter to me. I just want to be with you.” Tears began to stream down his cheeks. “Jemma I don’t deserve your love in any shape or form. If either of us draws away right now it should be me.”

However, Jemma couldn’t take seeing his tears. He had told her these things so times. He had apologized so many times. Now it was time to be silent. Jemma grabbed hold of Fitz’s arm and pulled him back down to her. “No more talking,” she said in a hushed voice against his lips before capturing them with her own.

They moved slowly and cautiously. Jemma and Fitz revealed in each other’s touch. They took in everything. Every moan and sigh was like part of a song. And when it was over, they held each other all through the night and well into the morning.


End file.
